


it's hard to breathe, you're everything

by joongsfavedenim



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, Slice of Life, jaeyong crumbs, kunten crumbs, minor ot23 characters, this is my first time posting here and im nervous, xiaojun is also whipped, xiaojun is an adorable mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:21:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29304906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joongsfavedenim/pseuds/joongsfavedenim
Summary: It was only five minutes into the ride to YangYang’s place that it dawned on Xiaojun that he had neither changed out of his soggy clothes nor brushed through his atrocious hair. He swiped his fingers hurriedly through his locks while panicking at the image of himself in his front-facing camera. The rational part of himself attempted to soothe his nerves with gentle reminders that YangYang rarely paid attention to people’s looks. But the puppy love in his heart was too busy shouting: 'YangYang looks cute without even trying! Did you know that? Do you remember when he fell asleep on your shoulder on the bus a week ago? What about when he - 'orXiao Dejun is very hungover and looking for his lost jacket while coming to terms with a crush on his friend.
Relationships: Liu Yang Yang/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun
Comments: 10
Kudos: 66





	it's hard to breathe, you're everything

**Author's Note:**

> hi i'm very whipped for shy boy xiaojun and quietly confident yangyang - this is my humble contribution to the xiaoyang tag. please let me know what you think, xoxo!

It was gone. It was so fucking gone. 

That was the conclusion Xiaojun had arrived at this particular morning. After turning his room completely upside down and setting it back right again, he was certain that the jacket was definitely not there. 

If he wasn’t so distraught that the jacket was  _ actually fucking gone _ , he would have been amazed that he had been able to search so thoroughly while nursing a killer hangover headache _. _ The pounding worsened as Xiaojun bent at the waist to check underneath his bed one last time. He huffed out a whine as he straightened up, coming away with dust bunnies clinging to the sleeves of his sweater. Definitely gone.

Plopping down on the edge of his bed, he attempted mentally retracing his steps. Each time he played the night over, his memory only got him as far as _The Patio_ before his brain would short circuit. But the hazy images Xiaojun’s mind retained from that part of the evening showed him that the jacket had still been with him up to that point. Now to puzzle-piece the remainder of the evening together.

“Good morning!”

It was an assault on almost every one of his senses. “Ten-ge,” he managed to mumble, rubbing his temples as he walked into the kitchen. Translation: you’re too loud and too happy for my current state of dehydration.

“Aw.” Ten clicked his tongue, lips forming a sympathetic pout. Xiaojun was about half-sure it was sarcastic. “Poor, hungover bee-bee,” Ten added, over-pronouncing the pet name. Now Xiaojun was one hundred percent sure it was sarcastic.

“Leave him alone,” Kun scolded, waving a spatula in Ten’s direction. “Breakfast is almost ready, Dejun. Coffee?”

Before Xiaojun could snatch his favorite mug off the counter, Ten was whining. “No fair,” he cried, clinging to Kun’s waist from behind. “You’re always gunning for the role of favorite parent.”

“Well, if you would be nicer to the kids,” Kun said, sing-song as he flipped a golden-brown pancake, “Then maybe they would pick you sometimes.”

“There was talk of coffee?” Xiaojun’s voice felt thick and scratchy - he didn’t even want to think about his breath. Caffeine would be a good first step towards feeling like a human being once again. Taking his mug, he pushed it across the counter in Kun’s direction, hoping that would suffice as a polite enough request.

With Ten still attached, Kun managed to pour out a serving from the kettle. He slid the mug back to Xiaojun, giving him a warm smile. Yes, Kun was the preferred parent today.

The coffee was strong and warm. By the time he was halfway done with his cup, Xiaojun wasn’t nearly as annoyed with Ten and Kun’s playful bickering as he was minutes earlier. His head still fucking hurt, but at least he couldn’t feel his heartbeat in his temples anymore. Kun insisted that he drink other fluids as well, placing a large glass of cool water next to a plate piled with pancakes and bacon.

“How did we all actually end up back in our own home?” Xiaojun asked, cheeks packed with the delights of Kun’s culinary talents. “And before you say anything,” he added, biting off a piece of bacon, “You basically live here, Kun-ge.”

“He should start paying rent.”

Kun sent an astounded glare in Ten’s direction. “As if you’re not stuffing your face with my acts-of-service breakfast right now.” He then flicked Ten’s forehead after Ten murmured something about having an idea of a different thing Kun could be stuffing.

“Anyway,” Kun sighed. “Ten and I were together the whole night, but I know you were with another group for a few hours after midnight.” The older man’s brow was furrowed slightly, trying to recount the events of their joint New Year’s Eve shenanigans. “Taeyong texted me around three wondering if I wanted to come claim you,” he said with a laugh.

Xiaojun’s stomach did a small backflip. “Uh - was I being embarrassing?”

“No more than usual,” Kun assured him, reaching out to pinch Xiaojun’s cheek gently. “But yeah, Ten and I walked over from The Patio to get you from Taeyong’s. And then we Ubered back here.”

Ten smirked over his pancakes. “Did you black out, Dejunnie?”

“Only somewhat.” Xiaojun rubbed his hands over his face. Some syrup had made his hands sticky and now, regrettably, it was on his face as well. He needed a shower badly. But, still, the mystery of his missing jacket plagued him. “I just couldn’t find my jacket this morning and I’m trying to remember where I would have taken it off.”

“Did you check the coat rack, perhaps?” Ten’s voice was dripping with amusement.

“Kun-ge is officially the favorite parent forever,” Xiaojun said hotly. “You’re mean.”

As obvious as it should have been, no, he had not checked the row of hooks by their apartment door. Nor, for that matter, any of the communal living spaces. As humiliating as that was, he was glad to have more possibilities. A small piece of hope sprung in his chest. There were still some bits of pancake left on his plate, but his concern for the jacket outweighed his hunger. But all this search would yield was the second disappointment of the day.

Kun’s mouth twisted into a grimace as Xiaojun collapsed back into his seat at the table, feeling defeated again. “Not there?”

“No,” Xiaojun confirmed. “It’s not in here anywhere. Unless somehow it’s in Ten’s room.”

Either Kun had convinced Ten to take it easy on Xiaojun or he was just relaunching his campaign to become the most adored older brother, because next Ten said, “I’ll go check. Just in case.”

“Is it the black leather one?” Ten asked over his shoulder, heading into the hallway. Xiaojun nodded, but he didn’t have high hopes.

“It will turn up,” Kun chirped encouragingly. “We can check with everyone.”

Moments later, Ten returned, shaking his head. The meme format _ ‘disappointed, but not surprised’ _ popped into Xiaojun’s head.

Xiaojun brainstormed more as he languidly scrubbed the shampoo from his hair, letting the warm water of his shower wash away the thin layer of Hangover Grime™. He was certain that the whole group had managed to stay together until midnight. He clearly remembered Jungwoo and Donghyuck enthusiastically trying to kiss every cheek or pair of lips they could manage. He also remembered the small surge of envy he felt as YangYang giggled after letting Donghyuck kiss him on the cheek. Xiaojun put that far away to unpack later.

So, as far as Xiaojun could figure, they had split up into a few smaller groups after the countdown to midnight at _The Patio_. That left around two and a half hours that he couldn’t fully account for before Ten and Kun picked him up from Taeyong’s place. Two and a half hours during which he must have misplaced the jacket. Stepping out of the shower, he reached for his phone.

**dejun** (11:23am): hey taeyongie hyung  
**dejun** (11:23am): kun told me i was at your place last night, have you seen a black leather jacket lying around somewhere?  
**dejun** (11:24am): it’s my favorite jacket - i’ll come pick it up if it’s there  
**dejun** (11:24am): thanks!  
**dejun** (11:25am): sorry for all the texts

After getting dressed in some comfy jeans and an old sweatshirt, he tried to quiet his anxiety by scrolling through TikTok while waiting for Taeyong to respond. He went down a cooking and food prep rabbithole, saving far too many videos that he wanted to show Kun later. When Xiaojun checked the time again, he saw that over an hour had passed and he still hadn’t heard back from Taeyong.

“Kun?” Xiaojun said quietly, padding out into the living room where Kun was reading a book on the couch with a sleeping Ten in his lap. “Have you talked to Taeyong hyung today?”

“I haven’t,” Kun answered. “Trying to see if your jacket is there?”

“Yeah. I texted him a while ago, but I haven’t heard anything back.”

“Sometimes he’s bad with his phone. He wouldn’t mind you stopping by if it’s that important to you, though.” There was that warm smile again. Kun really did kick ass at taking care of their friend group.

“Are you sure he would be okay with that?”

Kun nodded as vigorously as he could without rousing Ten. “Of course. Do you want me to drive you over there?”

“No, oh my gosh.” Xiaojun was overwhelmed by Kun’s kindness for a moment. To Kun, it was just a jacket. He had no idea why it was so significant to Xiaojun, and yet he was still willing to disrupt his cozy day to help Xiaojun retrieve it. “You’ve done more than enough - really. I’ll just take the bus over there.”

“Just let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll text you if anything comes up,” Xiaojun agreed. “Hopefully it’s there and I can just come straight back home and sleep forever.”

His hair was still slightly damp from his shower, and even though he had his glasses on, the world just seemed out of focus. He watched cars and people pass by through the large windows of the city bus, but they didn’t hold his attention like they normally do. New Year’s Day had always felt odd to him, even as a kid. There was a weird, expectant energy about it. Like he was meant to be doing something but he had no idea what. Not to mention, every New Year’s Day he could remember had been overcast. The clouds and grey skies only added to the anxiety buzzing just below his sternum.

He hopped off the bus when it stopped at the Japanese market close to Taeyong’s apartment. It was about a two minute walk from there, and Xiaojun, YangYang, and Kunhang had made this trip plenty of times when they couldn’t con a ride out of one of their friends who had a car. Taeyong’s place was the go-to spot for hanging out since it was in the same building as a bar. The drink selection wasn’t amazing, but it was cheap and it had tons of outdoor seating. Plus, they had all been going there so long that they knew most of the staff and bartenders by now.

Xiaojun fidgeted with the fraying sleeves of his sweater as he climbed the stairs. He felt like the subject of a sad Conan Gray song. Though he had been here relatively often, he didn’t actually know Taeyong that well. Taeyong made sure everyone felt comfortable in his home, but Xiaojun was only connected to him through Ten and Kun. It made him needlessly nervous to be showing up alone, unannounced. 

Three polite knocks and he waited. His eyes wandered to the welcome mat under his sneakers. It said ‘ _ Hi, there _ ’ in bold font and there were little plants surrounding the words. It very much suited Taeyong.

After a few moments, Xiaojun knocked again. Still nothing.

He took his phone out of his pocket, wondering if maybe Taeyong had texted him back. Instead, what he found was something that made his heart catapult itself into his throat.

**yangie** (1:08pm): hey did u still wanna hang out today?

Xiaojun stared at the message for several long seconds. His thumb moved to the bottom of the screen to unlock it, but he just couldn’t stop looking at the words. Overall, he wasn’t surprised they had made plans. He loved hanging out with YangYang and wanted to do so often. But this time was different. There was an implication. It might only be on his end, but it was there just the same.

He was so caught up in reading and re-reading the message over again that Xiaojun didn’t hear someone else coming down the hall until they spoke.

“Dejunnie?”

Xiaojun whipped his head around, seeing Taeyong walking towards him, a bag from the convenience store in one hand.

“What are you doing here?” Taeyong’s voice contained a hint of surprise, but his eyes were wide and sparkling. One might even say he was pleased to see a confused Xiaojun standing outside his door.

Gesturing dumbly to his phone, Xiaojun said, “I texted you a little while ago.” He stepped out of the way so Taeyong could unlock the door to his apartment. “I lost my jacket last night,” he continued. “Kun-ge said you wouldn’t mind if I came to look for it here.”

“Ah - sorry,” Taeyong said apologetically. He motioned for Xiaojun to step inside with him. “I was just driving Hyuck and Jeno home. Then I ran some errands - haven’t even looked at my phone this whole time.”

Xiaojun stood somewhat awkwardly in the entryway, watching Taeyong unload a few things from his bags onto the kitchen counter.

“And yes,” Taeyong nodded, smiling. “Kun was right - you’re welcome here anytime.”

“Thanks, hyung.” Xiaojun’s mouth unintentionally twisted up into a smile, mirroring Taeyong’s. It was almost impossible to not be infected by Taeyong’s warmth.

“It’s freezing out. Let me make us a cup of tea while you start looking for your jacket, hm?”

“You - I can just..?”

“Please,” Taeyong chuckled. “Honestly, make yourself at home.”

Moments later, Taeyong shooed him out of the kitchen entirely. Taeyong’s apartment wasn’t huge, so there weren’t many places for Xiaojun to search. He started by peeking quickly into Taeyong’s bedroom. Apparently Taeyong did not like clutter - there was a cushy looking mattress atop a simple box frame, plenty of deep green plants, a wooden wardrobe, and a sleek laptop resting in the center of the bed. Xiaojun still felt like he was intruding, even with the owner’s permission, so he was happy to take a glance and see that there was nowhere for the jacket to be hiding. 

It was doubtful that it would be in the bathroom, but Xiaojun checked anyway, if only to ease his mind. He wasn’t at all surprised to see nothing there. He heard Taeyong humming in the kitchen as he swept his eyes over the small living room. A few pieces of Taeyong’s clothing were draped neatly over an armchair, but no sign of any other garments. 

As he was about to return to the kitchen, something caught his eye. Xiaojun moved slowly toward a little nook he had never paid much attention to before. On the other side of the sectional couch, there was a cramped corner with a desk and an office chair. So this was where Taeyong banished all of the chaos and hodgepodge of his life, Xiaojun thought. There were papers and envelopes stacked high on the desk and an assortment of things tacked up onto a bulletin board. 

Xiaojun peered closer - it wasn’t entirely what he thought at first glance. There were ticket stubs from Donghyuck’s plays and performances. A few pieces of sheet music that must be from songs that Doyoung composed. Countless Polaroids and printed photos of their friend group, including one where both Yuta and Taeyong were sporting matching over-gelled mohawks and looking very young. If Xiaojun’s hungover body wasn’t still searching for every drop of liquid it could claim, he might have had a tear running down his face. 

“What does the jacket look like, Dejunnie?” Taeyong’s call from the kitchen pulled Xiaojun out of his private reverie. “I forgot to even ask.”

“It’s just black leather,” Xiaojun replied. “Nothing fancy but it’s perfectly worn in.” He’d gotten it in a second hand shop right after getting into university. The store was close to the building where he went for the final round of a scholarship interview and he stopped in while waiting to catch a bus back home. “It’s really comfortable.” Even though the interviewer hadn’t been meant to tell him anything concrete at the moment, she winked at him and hinted that he would soon have an email he would be pleased with. Xiaojun bought the jacket as a congratulatory gift to himself. “And it has lots of nice pockets on the inside.”

It was one pocket specifically that was occupying his mind now. Amidst cheers of ‘ _ happy new year _ ’ and shouts of drunken joy, Xiaojun clearly remembered putting the slip of paper into one of the inside pockets of his jacket. He remembers stepping out of the way of tipsy bar patrons so that he could ease it into his pocket without bending it. With the jacket missing, it was hard for him not to imagine that what he sought was damaged. Or even worse - he dreaded discovering that it had fallen out of the pocket altogether, and was perhaps crumpled on the sticky floor of a bar. Additionally, the YangYang notification felt like it was burning a hole through his jeans. 

“No sign of it?” Taeyong handed off a mug of tea to Xiaojun, lips pressed together and a touch of pity in his round eyes. 

Xiaojun shook his head, “No, but I really appreciate you letting me look.” 

They both naturally found the couch without any words said aloud, sitting quietly and sipping their tea. Rain started to fall, plinking off the sliding glass door leading to a sliver of balcony attached to Taeyong’s apartment. Xiaojun wasn’t looking forward to the bus ride home. 

“This is kinda weird,” he began, setting his cup down after finishing the remainder of the tea. “But, do you know where I might have been before I ended up here last night?”

Though Xiaojun was prepared for some light teasing about his state of inebriation the night prior, none came. Taeyong merely gazed at the ceiling, concentrating. “Honestly, I would ask Jaehyun - he saw all of us last night at some point.”

“He works downstairs right? I don’t know him that well.”

“Yeah - he does. I’ll see if he’s working today. One second.” 

Taeyong pulled his phone out of the band of his sweatpants and Xiaojun politely averted his eyes, trying not to think about the fact that he just saw a flash of the soft outline of his hyung’s abs. He glanced around the apartment some more as the line trilled on the other side of Taeyong’s phone call. 

“Hey, are you working today? Oh, good - Xiaojun may have lost his jacket down there, do you mind if we come look?”

Inwardly, Xiaojun startled a bit. He was going to actually help him look? The world didn’t deserve Lee Taeyong. 

“No, no,” Taeyong laughed, leaning back against the couch cushions. “Of course I wanna see you, too. I just wanna help Dejunnie - ” He paused to listen for a moment, eyes absently scanning the space in front of him. “Yeah, we can come down in a minute. Okay. Okay, see you.”

Xiaojun fidgeted quietly as Taeyong looked at something on his phone, then locked it, putting it down on the couch beside him. “Let’s go look for your jacket!” Taeyong said brightly, smiling wide. 

Jaehyun had to unlock the front door to _The Patio_ for them, as the bar wouldn’t be officially open for another few hours. As Xiaojun observed the other two interacting, Taeyong’s shy giggles from earlier began to make sense. 

Jaehyun looked at Taeyong exactly the way he should be looked at: as if he were the most captivating thing in the room. There was nothing aggressive about his prolonged eye contact, just fondness and perhaps admiration. Xiaojun felt a little like he was intruding and happily slinked off in the direction of the lost-and-found bin once Jaehyun pointed out its location. 

It was strange being on the other side of a bar. Especially since there was no music or the clamor of guests trying to order their drinks. Xiaojun squatted down and was able to quickly spot the large plastic container that Jaehyun described. He rifled through the contents quickly, unsurprisingly coming up dry. His outlook was becoming grim. 

Suddenly, he felt a solemn exhaustion creep into his limbs. He let himself melt, cross legged, onto the floor. Sighing quietly, Xiaojun stared off into space and let his mind go slack for a moment. Then he remembered YangYang. And his unanswered text. 

**dejun** (1:47pm): yeah - let’s hang out :)  
**dejun** (1:48pm): did you just wanna chill at mine?

Xiaojun sent the messages quickly, doing his best to sound as he always did. Somehow the words looked strained and desperate to him, even if the language indicated that it could be a normal conversation of theirs. 

The expectant gray bubble appeared as YangYang typed away on the other end. It had been at least thirty seconds before Xiaojun realized he hadn’t been breathing. He sucked in a shuddering breath as YangYang’s reply came through. 

**yangie** (1:49pm): lol maybe u were more zooted than i thought last night 😂😂 i invited u over here bc my mom is going to drop by that special soup. we’re gonna eat it for good luck, dumbass 

Xiaojun cringed. Not just at the term ‘zooted’, but at the fact that he couldn’t remember just how much of a clown he had been last night. He would do anything to rewind back to the moment when Yukhei bought them a third round of shots. That had to have been the breaking point for his tolerance. Without the extra shots, he would likely still have his jacket. And maybe some shred of dignity. 

**dejun** (1:52pm): yikes  
**dejun** (1:52pm): I was kinda afraid it was that bad - but yes I’ll come over for new years soup  
**dejun** (1:53pm): what time?

“Everything okay back there?”

He had forgotten that he was sitting on the floor of a grimy bar. Supposed to have been looking for his missing jacket this whole time. “Yeah,” Xiaojun squeaked out, rushing to get to his feet. “I just wanted to put everything back neatly.”

Jaehyun raised a bemused eyebrow at him, walking towards the bar. “Thanks, I guess. I can’t imagine the Nascar baseball cap or the pair of jeans with the entire ass missing need to be stored tidily, but thank you.” His tone was mocking but it definitely wasn’t unfriendly. Xiaojun laughed quietly, scratching the back of his neck self-consciously. “I was going to try out some new cocktails on Yong,” Jaehyun continued, slipping behind the bartop. “You interested?”

“Thanks, but I should, uh, get going.” Xiaojun offered both of them a smile. Tight-lipped and stressed though it was, he hoped they could still see the sincerity in his expression. 

Taeyong was sliding gingerly onto a barstool across from where Jaehyun looked to be preparing several glasses of varying sizes. “Do you need anything, Dejunnie? Is everything okay?” Xiaojun again pondered where Actual Angel Lee Taeyong was crafted.

“You’ve already been really helpful - thank you, hyung.” The Korean word still felt weird in his mouth sometimes. Felt unnatural to hear his own voice wrapped around it. But  _ hyung  _ felt more organic with Taeyong than any of the other older members of their friend cluster. “I’m okay - I just…” A few blurry images of his friend’s faces from last night flashed through his mind. He took note of the weirdly pleasant jolt in his gut when YangYang made an appearance. “...really wanna find my jacket,” he finished with an empty chuckle. 

The light in Taeyong’s smile extended to his round eyes. “I’ll keep an eye out for it, okay?” He reached across the bar, playfully jabbing Jaehyun in the chest. “I’ll make sure he does, too.”

“Thanks to you both,” Xiaojun sighed, already letting his feet carry him slightly backwards, seeking the bar’s exit. Jaehyun sent a polite wave and Taeyong continued to smile in that pleasant, reassuring manner as Xiaojun turned away. 

The photo booth kept in the corner of the bar caught his eye. It was rickety when more than two people got inside, often causing Xiaojun’s anxiety to spike when their entire group tried to squeeze in. The structure’s outer walls were covered in stickers and photo print outs that patrons had accidentally left behind. His heart lurched again. The faded red curtain was partially open and, in his mind’s eye, he could see YangYang’s slender hand yanking it closed behind the pair of them the night before. 

Fuck. 

He stepped out onto the street, seeking refuge from the steady rain underneath the small awning over _The Patio_ ’s entrance. There were two waiting notifications when he checked his phone a moment later. 

**yangie** (1:56pm): how bout 5? im not rly doing anything anyway

**Kun-ge** (2:01pm): Any luck?

Xiaojun typed out ‘ _ yeah sounds good, see you then _ ’ and ‘ _ no not yet’ _ respectively before pocketing his device once again. Bracing himself against the rainfall, he headed further down the street. If he knew his friends, then he knew that they probably did not stop at just one bar last night. 

_O’Charlie’s_ was closed. Door locked, lights off closed. The next place, some trendy brewery Xiaojun could never remember the name of, was open for lunch. But the hostess checked the coat closet and the lost-and-found for him and came up empty handed. The rest of the businesses on this stretch of road were either dark, closed for New Year’s Day, or irrelevant to his search. 

The rain was picking up now, rendering Xiaojun’s sweater essentially useless. He jogged to a nearby overhang, pressing himself up against the window of a small neighborhood grocery. It wasn’t that cold, but he felt a depressing chill in his bones all the same. Another layer could have served him well in this weather, but he realized he had unconsciously chosen to be stubborn. Chosen not to wear a jacket since it couldn’t be  _ the _ jacket. 

Fuck fuck. 

Pausing before entering his passcode, Xiaojun read the  _ ‘see you then’ _ plus four or five widely grinning emojis that YangYang had sent. He actually found a laugh inside him - even if his mouth didn’t open to release the sound. It vibrated pleasantly in his chest as he recalled the time he had teased YangYang for looking like the emoji that had all its teeth showing in a straight line.  _ ‘That’s how you smile, Yangie!’  _ rang in his head for a few moments. He wanted to throw his whole stupid, enamored brain in the trash. 

He lifted the phone to his ear, having selected the number he wanted to ring. Just as he was beginning to suspect that he would get voicemail, a gruff voice mumbled out something that could be construed as a greeting on the other end. 

“Sicheng-ge? Sorry were you asleep?” Xiaojun winced as Sicheng grunted in affirmation. “I really am sorry. I just - I didn’t know who else to call.”

“What’s up?” Sicheng asked, a little more clearly, perhaps now on alert. 

“I mean - nothing is like... _ wrong _ ,” Xiaojun lied. By all accounts, nothing was actually wrong. But he  _ felt _ wrong. He felt all twisted up inside. Like when you’re trying to get wrapped up in a blanket but it’s flipped over itself several times and you can’t get it to lay out flatly across your body. All the right materials are there, you just can’t get them to cooperate and work the way you want them to. “Like nothing happened. I just lost my favorite jacket last night and have been everywhere looking for it and…” He trailed off lamely, not really knowing what else to say. 

“Where are you now?”

“Outside  The Patio . I came to look here. Now I’m kind of at a dead end.”

“Isn’t it raining?”

“Yeah, I’m freezing,” Xiaojun admitted. 

“I’ll come get you. See you in a minute.”

That was part of the beauty with Sicheng. He didn’t say as many words or need as many words said to him, but he was reliable. 

Xiaojun barely had to wait ten minutes before Sicheng’s small sedan pulled up to the curb. “Thank you,” Xiaojun breathed earnestly, wasting no time in raising his hands up to the vent. A small wave of relief washed over him as he felt the flow of toasty air. 

Sicheng gave him a small smile before putting the car in drive. “Anywhere else you need to go? Like to look for it?”

“I can’t think of anything. Unless you saw me between one and three a.m. last night and happen to know if I had my jacket with me.”

“Funny that you think any of you guys would be able to convince me to stay out later than midnight,” Sicheng laughed in response. 

Xiaojun chuckled as well. “Fair enough.” 

“I did see YangYang clinging onto you a lot last night before I went home,” Sicheng mused. Xiaojun risked a quick glance at the older man, sensing a mischievous edge in his voice. “What’s going on there?”

“N - nothing,” Xiaojun stammered. “We’re. I mean - we’ve just been friends a long time.” Sicheng offered an amused hum as acknowledgement, but Xiaojun already knew Sicheng wasn’t convinced. Unfortunately, just because Xiaojun preferred to hide his emotions didn’t mean he was particularly good at it, damn it. 

“I owe you ramen dinner or something,” Xiaojun offered, unbuckling his seatbelt as they pulled up to his apartment building.

“Yes,” Sicheng said, grinning.

Xiaojun wanted to kiss the other for both his helpfulness and his efficiency. But, for obvious Sicheng-barely-tolerates-skinship reasons, he withheld the urge. 

As he watched the car pull back out onto the street, he withdrew his phone from his pocket. Shuffling slowly to the building’s entrance, he typed out a text. 

**dejun** (2:38pm): do you mind if i come over now?  
**dejun** (2:38pm): today has kinda sucked

Discouraged and exhausted, Xiaojun ascended the stairs to their apartment. He ran a hand absentmindedly through his hair. It was ratty and damp from walking around in the rain and it made him want another shower. The water bill for January could suck it. 

Kun was still in the living room when Xiaojun trudged through the front door. One forlorn look at Kun told the older man all he needed to know. 

“I’m sorry, Dejun,” Kun whispered sympathetically, closing his book and resting it on his lap. 

Xiaojun shrugged. “It’s just...I feel like I lost something important.” He slipped off his wet sneakers and padded over to sink down onto the couch opposite Kun. “Like - it’s hard to explain, but...I was just hoping that if I found what I was looking for then I would know if…”

Nodding his head slowly, Kun turned in his seat to face Xiaojun. Xiaojun hoped Kun could read his mind and fill in the blanks without him having to admit everything out loud. 

“Then I would know if everything was just all in my head or if it was real.” He expelled a long sigh, happy to have an admission hanging in the air. Even if it was as cryptic as he could make it. 

Kun stayed quiet. Xiaojun could hear the soft scrape of paper against Kun’s fingers as he fiddled with the pages of his book. “I would give you my two cents,” Kun offered, “But, I don’t want to speak on behalf of the other party involved.”

A dramatic groan eased itself out of Xiaojun’s throat. This is why he doesn’t date. This is why he doesn’t discuss feelings. This is why having a (most likely) unrequited crush on one of his best friends was eating away at his frayed nerves. He didn’t like being given opportunities to make a fool of himself. He did enough of that on his own. 

“You’ll figure it out,” Kun laughed, turning back to his book with an infuriatingly calm smile on his lips. “Give yourself more credit, Dejunnie.”

Xiaojun was about to quip back that he deserved no credit in romantic endeavors, but a text popped up on his lock screen, sending his heart into yet another swooping dive. YangYang’s response read:  _ please do!! i miss u gege _

_ God, no,  _ Xiaojun lamented internally.  _ Now is not the time to be messing around with me, Liu YangYang.  _

Instead of responding with something to that effect, he just ordered an Uber.

It was only five minutes into the ride to YangYang’s place that it dawned on Xiaojun that he had neither changed out of his soggy clothes nor brushed through his atrocious hair. He swiped his fingers hurriedly through his locks while panicking at the image of himself in his front-facing camera. The rational part of himself attempted to soothe his nerves with gentle reminders that YangYang rarely paid attention to people’s looks. But the puppy love in his heart was too busy shouting:  _ YangYang looks cute without even trying! Did you know that? Do you remember when he fell asleep on your shoulder on the bus a week ago? What about when he - _

“Hey,” the driver said. “Is this you, man?”

“Oh. Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” Xiaojun stumbled out of the car, hoping he hadn’t been sitting there in silence for longer than just a moment. He took one last look at himself in the camera. Aside from the smudges on his glasses, there was little he could remedy about his appearance.

He rubbed at the lenses with the sleeves of his sweater as he waited for YangYang to answer the door. About thirty seconds after his knock, Xiaojun heard, “You can let yourself in!”

As he entered, an oversized tee and basketball shorts-clad YangYang was plopping himself down on the couch. “Sorry it took me a second - I was still kinda naked,” YangYang explained with that raspy chuckle of his. Xiaojun turned to face the wall as he took off his shoes so that he could hopefully bypass commenting on that.

“I’ve been wanting to show you this game - hey.” YangYang scanned Xiaojun up and down as he stood in the entryway. “You’re - you’re all wet, Jun.”

“Ha,” Xiaojun responded, voice devoid of emotion. “Sharp eyes.”

YangYang furrowed his brow, confusion crossing his face. “My fucking bad.”

Xiaojun sighed for maybe the hundredth time that day. “Sorry, Yang.” He stuffed his hands inside his pockets, casting his gaze down. “I feel...like I was saying. Today sucked.” He took a few timid steps in the direction of the sofa. “Can we just game so I can forget everything?”

His companion considered him seriously for a brief second. The corners of YangYang’s mouth were turned down. It wasn’t quite a frown, though. In the quick moment before YangYang nodded, accepting Xiaojun’s presence on the couch, Xiaojun became cognizant of how well he knew the shape of YangYang’s lips. Lips he had looked at for years. Lips that he, thanks to a healthy amount of vodka, couldn’t remember if he had felt the touch of or not.

Gradually, Xiaojun got lost in his afternoon with YangYang. He laughed as they took turns getting through some early levels of the remastered version of Spyro, poking fun at YangYang each time the younger man complained that something about the game was too different from the original. They heated up the stew brought over by YangYang’s mother, eating it on the couch as they watched each other painstakingly search for gems inside the game world. Once their bellies became full with the spinach (for financial success in the new year) and long rice noodles (for long life) from Mrs. Liu’s soup, they slumped lower into the couch and groaned about eating too much.

By then, most of the sadness Xiaojun was feeling about the jacket had waned. He had YangYang right here next to him, adorably screaming in frustration each time the little dragon he was controlling missed a jump on screen - it was easy to let some of the complications slip from his mind.

“Jun?”

“Yeah?” Xiaojun answered, eyes squinting as he carefully walked Spyro around the edge of a canyon, gripping the controller tightly in his concentration.

YangYang let out the quiet exhale of a giggle before asking, “You don’t remember all of last night, do you?”

His body began preparing him for imminent embarrassment. Xiaojun’s fingers faltered on the controller and Spyro slipped, taking a long fall into the blue waters below. Very fitting, as his stomach was doing some plummeting of its own at the moment. “Uh,” he mumbled, pretending to be very invested in the loading screen on the television. “I - what do you mean?”

Xiaojun could feel YangYang’s curious eyes on him and knew it was only a matter of time before YangYang would crack one of his dazzling, wide grins. He wasn’t strong enough for this. What little resolve he had left would crumble the second he allowed himself to make eye contact. Xiaojun would fall apart from the combination of YangYang’s teasing and YangYang’s laugh and YangYang’s perfect little everything. And then he would get weird and withdrawn because he would refuse to admit that there was this odd little crush hovering on the fringes of his mind for the last several months. Xiaojun didn’t want to put YangYang out like that - put him in the awkward position of rejecting his best friend.

YangYang’s raspy giggles suddenly washed over Xiaojun. He was done for.

“You’re way too easy to mess with,” YangYang nearly barked through laughter. Xiaojun hesitated for a moment, then forced his body to make sounds resembling amiable chuckles. “I thought you were going to start sweating.”

Putting the controller down next to YangYang, Xiaojun took a breath. “I’m never drinking again,” he lamented quietly.

“Psh - like it’s that big of a deal, dummy,” YangYang quipped, happily taking back control of the game. “You were just being cuter than usual is all.”

Xiaojun chanced a quick look at YangYang. His bottom lip was drawn up under his teeth in concentration. Unreasonably adorable. Xiaojun wanted to unpack the ‘cuter than usual’ comment, but his brain was just so tired. The rest of him was tired, too.

The soup had left a warm feeling in Xiaojun’s belly, making his limbs feel heavy and turning his mood lethargic. The next time YangYang offered him the controller, Xiaojun shook his head softly and cozied himself against the arm of the couch. He let his eyelids flutter closed a few times, trying to keep watching YangYang play the game - keep listening to YangYang’s breathing, the click of the buttons. 

He realized that he had failed to stay awake some time later. All the lamps in the room were turned off, the only source of light coming from the video projected on the wall. YangYang had put on a lofi playlist and Xiaojun used the images and sounds to re-attach himself to the waking world. An illustrated girl had her back turned to the camera, her hair blowing in the wind as she gazed out at the sun setting over an idyllic beach scene. Xiaojun watched the animation loop over and over again, coming back to himself. There was a pleasant weight on his chest and, as he stretched slightly, he discovered that it was YangYang’s hand.

For all the times that Xiaojun had felt his veins turn to ice from anxiety that day, this moment wasn’t one of them. He suspected YangYang was asleep, his breathing even and the muscles of his arm completely lax where it was draped around Xiaojun’s shoulder. Xiaojun shifted experimentally, his head pressing against YangYang’s thigh. The younger man made no significant movement, only let out a deep, nap-heavy sigh.

Xiaojun let twenty minutes or so pass this way, focusing on his breathing just to feel the subtle imprint of YangYang’s palm on his chest. Eventually, he fished his phone out of his pocket with only some difficulty. He quietly scrolled through instagram, scanning over his friends’ and acquaintances’ photos captioned with their resolutions for 2021. 

One post caused him to stop, his thumb hovering over the digital heart - waiting to be filled with red from a quick double-tap. Donghyuck had posted the pictures a few hours ago with the caption  _ ‘zero zero zero baby babies’ _ . It looked like he had managed to gather each of their friends that were born in the year 2000 together for a few seconds last night. Though YangYang was being squeezed tightly by Donghyuck in the picture, he was only returning the embrace with one arm. YangYang’s right arm was stretched outside of the frame, occupied with something else. As Xiaojun swiped through two more photos in the set, he peered closer. The third photo revealed a familiar hand, emerging from a familiar leather jacket, clinging to YangYang’s hand.

A fuzzy memory resurfaced.

_ ‘Hyuck wants you for a picture, little sheep!’ _ someone had called.

_ ‘Well, go on.’  _ Xiaojun recalled saying something to this effect.

_ ‘Just come with me, gege. It will only take one second.’ _

Then there was the sensation of being dragged across a crowded space, YangYang’s fingers digging into the back of his hand as they zigzagged around bodies.

_ ‘Let go of Dejun hyung,’ _ one of the 2000s babies said, laughing.

_ ‘Nah. It’s okay.’ _ YangYang had said. 

Present and Sober Xiaojun wanted to do a backflip. He combed through more hazy images of their time at the bar, and he couldn’t produce any memories where YangYang  _ wasn’t _ holding his hand. 

That jacket could go get fucked now, for all Xiaojun cared. At last, he felt something remotely concrete and the need for the jacket dissipated. 

Xiaojun chuckled quietly to himself. He had spent all day desperately wishing to get his hands on the pictures that he had placed in his inner pocket - the little souvenir photo strip that would depict four black and white images of him and YangYang. It was the fourth and final photo that Xiaojun had been most interested in. He wanted to study it with non-intoxicated eyes. 

He remembered laughing a lot while they took the first three photos, but he had no idea how they were posing or what those pictures turned out like. But the last one, they had ended up facing each other, looking at each other’s rosy faces, warm with the burn of alcohol. Xiaojun had felt a lot of things as that photo was captured, but what he needed was confirmation. He needed to see what was in YangYang’s eyes to be sure if he had hallucinated everything or not.

_ ‘Nah. It’s okay,’ _ YangYang repeated in Xiaojun’s mind.  _ ‘Don’t feel like letting go.’ _

Xiaojun tried not to feel too elated. After all, they were only words and pictures. He would need to pry answers out of both himself and YangYang. But, lying here, with YangYang’s hand resting so close to his heart, and looking at the images of their fingers intertwined on Donghyuck’s instagram, Xiaojun didn’t feel so frazzled and crazy anymore.

YangYang stirred, pushing a yawn from his lungs. “Can I lay down, Jun?”

“Of course,” Xiaojun answered. He moved to stand so he could reposition himself, but felt a gentle tug on his sweater instead.

“Just lie down, dummy,” YangYang mumbled, shifting so his body was stretched out alongside Xiaojun’s. Xiaojun could feel YangYang’s arms folded up against his back, tucked between his shoulder blades. “‘S cold.”

“Should have put on a sweater.  _ Dummy _ ,” Xiaojun shot back playfully. Then screeched, “Ah! You dick!” as YangYang suddenly brought his knee up to meet Xiaojun’s ass rather harshly.

YangYang merely snickered, settling into his spot on the couch comfortably. It seemed like he was going back to sleep until he spoke again, returning to his earlier question. “Do you really not remember?”

YangYangs’s voice was gentle. Xiaojun felt another tug on the back of his sweater as YangYang twisted the fabric in his fingers. There was so much love in YangYang, he thought. Even when YangYang teased, Xiaojun knew it was only so they could laugh together. Everyone thought YangYang was loud and brash. Mischievous. But he was all soft edges and rounded corners. Just loud for the sake of making his happiness evident.

“Gege?”

“Sorry,” Xiaojun rushed to answer, having been quiet for too long. “I...remember  _ some _ things,” he said honestly, eyes locked on a knot in the wood flooring. “Why?”

“Just…” YangYang sighed softly. His hands smoothed over the fabric of Xiaojun’s sweatshirt, undoing the creases he’d made when bunching the material up. “When we were waiting for Kun-ge to come pick you up. On Taeyong’s couch...”

Xiaojun had no memory of that, fuzzy or not. He really was never going to drink again.

“You said something and I didn’t know if it was a joke or not,” YangYang continued.

The not knowing was far more uncomfortable than his embarrassment. Xiaojun asked, resolute, “What did I say?”

“That you think I would be fun to date.” 

Xiaojun took a breath. “I don’t remember saying that last night. But, I  _ do _ think it.” He tried to imagine what kind of expression YangYang was wearing behind him. “I think you’d make sure your person is always having fun.”

There was a huff of laughter from YangYang. “Maybe,” he mused. 

The corners of Xiaojun’s lips turned up ever so slightly. He could hear a smile in YangYang’s voice.

Just below his neck, Xiaojun felt YangYang tentatively rest his forehead against his back. It was soothing, pleasant. Just like having YangYang’s hand on his chest had been. Xiaojun wanted to say something like,  _ ‘Wow, we’re kinda shit at talking about our feelings,’ _ but things were too precarious right now. He didn’t want to scare away the energy that was building between them.

“Oh yeah - you left your jacket with me, I almost forgot.” YangYang’s voice was muffled from being tucked into Xiaojun’s back, but Xiaojun was pretty certain he had heard that clearly.

“You have my jacket?”

“Yeah,” YangYang answered. “It’s in my room. I’ll grab it before you leave.”

Xiaojun was actually stunned by the splendid brand of torture that the cosmos had bestowed on him. “Thanks for holding onto it, Yang.” He slid his legs back gently, letting them curve more closely around YangYang’s.

It took YangYang a second to answer. He was drifting off again. “Sure,” he murmured. “Found a cute picture of us in the pocket.” YangYang was silent for a few beats, breathing even and relaxed. “Want a copy,” he added.

“I’ll get you one,” Xiaojun replied, closing his eyes, basking in the warmth of everything. “I’ll get you one soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> the spinach and noodle soup thing is something that i make for myself and my family on new year’s day. i’m not sure if those foods are traditional for other folks, it’s just something i do! anyway, hopefully this made you feel as warm and fuzzy as i felt while writing it. come find me on instagram (@au_roradiary) or tumblr (joongsfavedenim) if u want to scream about comebacks together or something!


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